If Wishes were Horses
by Ithilwen of Himring
Summary: Sequel to "The Gift". A young Maedhros and Fingon meet for the first time. Silmarillion-based.
1. Part 1

This story takes place in Valinor; accordingly, I've chosen to use the characters' Quenya names, which are as follows:

Maitimo or Nelyafinwë - Maedhros

Makalaurë - Maglor

Tyelkormo - Celegorm

Carnistir - Caranthir

Findekáno - Fingon 

Angaráto - Angrod 

Aikanáro - Aegnor

Nolofinwë - Fingolfin

Arafinwë - Finarfin

For the meaning of the names, see the Author's Notes at the end of the story.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings are gratefully borrowed from the works of J. R. R. Tolkien. I own nothing.

If Wishes were Horses - Part 1

The young elf groaned slightly as he awakened from his quite unexpected nap. _I never realized just how hard the ground is_, he thought groggily. _Maybe I should have listened to my father._

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. His father was eager for his eldest son to improve his horsemanship, after all, and how could Findekáno do that if he was limited to riding that placid pony he'd been given? And when his younger cousins Aikanáro and Angaráto dared him to ride his father's horse, he decided he couldn't let such a challenge go unanswered simply because his father had forbidden him to touch the animal - why, they'd think he was afraid! So he'd waited until his father was preoccupied with business, and then the three of them had sneaked out to the stables, and Findekáno had mounted the big black stallion. His cousins had been impressed. So was he - impressed by how big Stormcloud was, and how fresh. His pony was nothing like this powerful animal. He'd just decided enough was enough, and was ready to dismount, when the storm began; at the first clap of thunder the stallion had gone berserk, and Findekáno found himself clinging tightly to the terrified animal as it bolted from the courtyard and raced headlong into the woods surrounding the hill of Túna. As the rain fell, the horse's shiny black hide became slick and slippery, and when the frightened stallion leaped over a fallen log lying in the path, Findekáno felt himself sliding off. The last thing he remembered was thinking, _Father is going to be so angry that I lost Stormcloud._ Then his head had hit the log, and everything went black. 

__

It's stopped raining, Findekáno noticed. _I wonder how long I've been lying here?_ He was wet, and cold, and everything hurt. His head ached, and when he reached up with his hand, he felt a large knot where he'd struck the log. As he began to slowly sit up, Findekáno realized he had no idea of where he was. He'd become completely disoriented during that mad race through the trees and fields - why, he could be almost anywhere on Aman, he thought, dismayed. How far could a horse run without stopping? Findekáno had no idea. When he looked around, he saw no sign of Stormcloud, not that he'd dare to try riding that monster home anyway. He was probably going to have a long walk ahead of him, assuming he could figure out which direction to go in the first place. As he got to his knees, he felt dizzy, and had to lean against a tree for a moment to keep from blacking out. Then he tried to stand, and gasped at the sudden ferocious pain in his left ankle. He couldn't put any weight on that foot at all, much less walk. For the first time that day, Findekáno felt frightened. His parents might be looking for him, but no one knew where he was. How was he ever going to get home? He called out for help repeatedly, his voice increasingly desperate, but the only reply was the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. Slowly, he began to hop along on his good foot, but he was too dizzy to get very far before he fell over. When he called out again and received no answer, he gave in to his fear and began to cry.

*******

__

It's not fair! Maitimo raged. _Why am I always the one who has to be responsible, just because I'm the oldest? I never have a chance to do anything just for myself - if I'm not helping Father at his forge, I'm watching TyelkormoandCarnistirfor Mother. Well, not today,_ he thought as he pushed his way past the wet and tangled foliage that partly obscured the narrow forest trail which lead to his favorite private haunt, one that he'd discovered while exploring with his brother Makalaurë long ago. As soon as he'd finished his work at the forge, he'd headed directly into the woods, heedless of the wet weather and ignoring his father's directive that he should return to the house to help their mother. _Makalaurë can baby-sit for a change; I was watching him when I was his age, surely he should be capable of watching our two younger brothers for a few hours. For once, I'm going to do what **I** want to do; I don't care if I get into trouble for it later._ He continued to fume silently as he pressed on through the silent woods towards his secret clearing.

He was nearly halfway there when he noticed the muffled sounds. He paused for a minute, listening intently. _I could have sworn that I heard someone crying,_ Maitimo thought,_ but that isn't possible; no one comes this way except for me and Makalaurë, and he's back home. It's just more proof that I've been spending too much time with my little brothers; I'm starting to imagine them wailing wherever I go!_ He'd just begun to walk again when the sounds resumed, slightly louder this time. It **was** someone crying! Curious, Maitimo left the trail and began to move quietly through the damp woods in the direction of the noise.

*******

Findekáno froze when he heard the very faint rustling sounds. Something was moving towards him! There were no dangerous animals in the woods surrounding Túna, but that was not necessarily true of the rest of Aman, and he had no idea where he was. What if it was a boar, or (worse yet) a predator? With his bad ankle, he was unable to run or climb to safety, and he had no weapons with which to defend himself. He choked off his sobs and became silent, desperately hoping that whatever menacing creature was approaching would decide to move in another direction, but he had no such luck; the rustling steadily increased in volume, and he began to shake. Then suddenly the bushes parted slightly, and Findekáno saw a quite unexpected creature step out onto the path where he lay.

It was an elf, not too much older than he was, a tall boy with reddish hair. The stranger walked quickly over to Findekáno's side and knelt next to him. "I thought I heard someone crying," the strange boy said. "Are you all right? What are you doing here?"

"I... I fell from my horse, and hurt my leg," Findekáno replied, embarrassed. "I can't walk."

"Well, let me see if I can find your horse; I'll help you mount, and then you won't need to walk on your bad leg," the boy replied. He began to stand up, looking around, and Findekáno was forced to admit, "Don't waste your time. My horse is gone - he ran away." _Even if Stormcloud is somewhere nearby, I can't ride him, and when this boy sees that, he'll know he's not my horse,_ Findekáno thought. _I'll look like a fool - or a stupid child._ The red-haired boy stood still for a moment, thinking. "I suppose I'd better go get some help. Where do you live? I'll go and get your parents, and -"

"No!" Findekáno responded urgently, the image of his angry father springing forth vividly in his mind. When the other boy gave him a quizzical stare, he continued more calmly, "It's... It's too far to walk." _And I don't know where I am in any case, _he thought to himself. 

"Well, in that case, I'll go and get my father, and he can carry you." Findekáno was mortified at the thought of being carried like a baby. " No... I mean, you don't need to bother him. I think if I could lean on you, I'd be able to manage - I wouldn't need to put any weight on my leg that way."

"I suppose we could try that, if you like," the tall boy replied. "Which leg did you hurt? I'll need to be on that side."

"The left one," Findekáno replied. The boy moved to Findekáno's left side and said, "Put your arm around my shoulders, and I'll try to help you up." Findekáno gasped when he inadvertently stepped on his left foot, but then he was standing again, weight on his right foot, leaning against the strange boy, who now asked, "Which way do we go to get to your house?" Findekáno looked down, embarrassed again; after a moment, he finally admitted, "I don't know - I'm lost."

"How did you end up here, then - did you just go riding aimlessly around the countryside?" the red-headed boy asked, but Findekáno did not reply. "I suppose it doesn't matter," the boy finally said. "We'll go to my home instead; it's not too far from here, and we'll figure out where you live later. What's your name?"

"Findekáno. What's yours?"

"Maitimo," the boy replied. "Well, let's go. We'll go slowly; let me know if you need to stop and rest."

"I won't need to rest," Findekáno responded firmly; then the two of them set off slowly through the woods.

*******

Maitimo's home, Findekáno noticed, was more like a palace - very large and built of stone, with two good-sized towers, and surrounded by several outbuildings. It sat atop a small hill, and in the distance, the city of Tirion could be glimpsed through the trees. As they entered the front courtyard, Findekáno saw two dark-haired boys wrestling together on the ground. When they spotted Findekáno and his companion, they broke off their play. The older boy ran up to greet them, but the younger one stood still, staring wide-eyed at the stranger.

"Maitimo! Who is this?" the boy, who appeared to be slightly younger than Findekáno, asked breathlessly. "How did you meet him? Mother is going to be angry with you - you were supposed to help her this afternoon, she wanted you to help teach Tyelkormo his letters." 

"So why didn't **you** help our little brotherwith his letters, _filit*_ ?" Maitimo asked. The younger boy shrugged and replied, "I tried, but I'm no good at that sort of thing. Besides, playing is more fun than reading." Maitimo laughed, then said, "Findekáno, this is my brother Makalaurë, and that," and he pointed at the smaller boy, who was still staring intently at them, "is my brother Tyelkormo. Makalaurë, this is Findekáno. He hurt himself falling off a horse. Please go inside and let Mother know we have a guest who needs her help."

Makalaurë ran over to the younger boy and took his hand, and they both went inside. Findekáno, still leaning on Maitimo, followed much more slowly. "So those are your brothers?" he said, and Maitimo nodded and replied, "Some of them." At Findekáno's startled look, he continued, " I have three brothers now. Makalaurë and Tyelkormo you've seen; Carnistir's just a baby yet, so he's with my mother. And soon another brother or sister will be added to our house. Mother and Father are hoping for a girl, but I think it's going to be a boy. Don't you have any siblings to play with?"

"One, a younger brother, but he's about your brother Tyelkormo's age; too little to do anything fun with," Findekáno replied. "Don't you get lonely?" Maitimo asked, and Findekáno said, "Well, I play with my cousins, and my friends from school." "I've never been to school," Maitimo said, a wistful tone in his voice, "our parents teach us instead." Before Findekáno could reply to this revelation, a tall woman came striding out the front door to meet them. She had reddish hair, almost the same color as Maitimo's, Findekáno noted, and was very pregnant. _This must be Maitimo's mother,_ he realized, an observation confirmed when Maitimo said, " Mother! This is Findekáno; he fell off a horse and hurt his leg, and the horse ran away, so he can't get home. Can he stay here with us?"

"Of course, for a time, until we can contact his parents and take him home," the woman replied. "Hello, Findekáno. My name is Nerdanel. Let's get you inside so I can look at your leg."

Once inside, Findekáno found himself subjected to a thorough examination; he tried to be stoic, but had to bite his lip to keep from crying out when Maitimo's mother examined his ankle. "Well, it's not broken," she concluded, "but it's badly sprained. You're not going to be walking for a while. Let's get you out of these wet clothes and cleaned up, and you can rest while my husband goes for your parents. You can borrow some of Maitimo's things - they'll be a bit large, but at least you'll be dry." Almost before he knew what was happening, Findekáno found himself stripped, scrubbed, and dressed in warm, clean clothes. Nerdanel gave him a foul-tasting herbal concoction that helped with his headache as well as his aching ankle, and placed him on a comfortable couch close to a fireplace "where I can keep an eye on you," she said. Then she asked the question Findekáno had been dreading. "So tell me- who are your parents, and where do you live?"

Findekáno remembered how proud his father had been when he first received Stormcloud, who had been a gift from his own father Finwë, and how he'd been strictly forbidden to touch the animal, much less ride him. He could clearly picture his father's anger and grief upon discovering his beloved horse missing - and he couldn't bear the thought of telling his father Nolofinwë that Stormcloud's loss was his fault. _I can't go home, not after what I've done,_ he realized sadly, and turned away from Nerdanel's gaze. "I don't have a home anymore," he replied sadly.

"You ran away?" Nerdanel asked gently; after a moment, Findekáno nodded yes. "Your mother and father are worried about you, I'm sure of that," she continued quietly. "I would be, if one of my sons was missing. Won't you tell me your parents' names, so I can talk to them and let them know you're safe?" When Findekáno shook his head no, she said, "You can stay here for a while, Findekáno, but eventually you're going to have to return to your home - you're still too young to be on your own yet. I don't know why you don't want to go back to your family, but I'm sure your parents miss you and want you to come home. Why don't you rest for a while now, and I'll talk to you again later - you might feel differently after you've had some sleep and are feeling better." She brushed his hair from his forehead gently, then covered him with a light blanket. "Rest now, Findekáno. I'll be nearby if you need me - just call, and I'll come." And then she left, and Findekáno realized that he was indeed sleepy. _It must be those herbs,_ he thought, and then he fell into peaceful dreams.

(To Be Continued)

Notes:

*filit - Quenya for "little bird"; an affectionate nickname Maedhros has given his brother Maglor.


	2. Part 2

This story takes place in Valinor; accordingly, I've chosen to use the characters' Quenya names, which are as follows:

Maitimo or Nelyafinwë - Maedhros

Makalaurë - Maglor

Tyelkormo - Celegorm

Carnistir - Caranthir

Findekáno - Fingon 

Angaráto - Angrod 

Aikanáro - Aegnor

Nolofinwë - Fingolfin

Arafinwë - Finarfin

For the meaning of the names, see the Author's Notes at the end of the story.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings are gratefully borrowed from the works of J. R. R. Tolkien. I own nothing.

If Wishes were Horses - Part 2

__

Where could Carnistir have gone off to? Maitimo wondered as he looked about the courtyard. He'd somehow found himself once again watching his youngest brothers while his mother was helping the strange boy Maitimo had found during his rebellious flight through the woods; it seemed there was no avoiding his apparent destiny as the family baby-sitter. _One would think that with all the practice I've had, I'd be better at this by now,_ he thought ruefully as he quickly glanced about, hoping to spot his smallest brother. For someone who hadn't been walking very long, his youngest brother could move remarkably quickly. He'd only turned his back for a moment to help Tyelkormo retie his shoelaces, but when he'd turned around again little Carnistir was nowhere to be seen. The courtyard gate remained securely closed, and since the latch was too high for a toddler to reach, he could not have left the yard. That left only one possibility - he must have gone back inside the house. Sighing, Maitimo took his brother Tyelkormo's hand. "Let's go find our brother," he said, and the two of them returned inside.

As soon as they entered, they heard music - Makalaurë was practicing. Hoping that Carnistir would be attracted by the sound, Maitimo and Tyelkormo followed the sounds to the room where Makalaurë sat playing his harp. "Have you seen Carnistir?" Maitimo asked. "He managed to slip away from me a few minutes ago." Since his brother was playing undisturbed, Maitimo realized Carnistircouldn't have entered the room - peace, quiet, and the luxury of undisturbed concentration were in short supply wherever their energetic and inquisitive youngest brother was found - but perhaps Makalaurë might have noticed him scurrying past the entrance to the room, and could tell Maitimo which way he'd gone. _Or perhaps not,_ Maitimo thought when he saw Makalaurë start, so intently focused on his music that he hadn't heard his brothers approaching. Tyelkormo dashed in and, taking advantage of his brother's surprise, began to pluck randomly on the harp strings.

"Stop that!" Makalaurë said crossly, "you're going to break it!" Chastened, Tyelkormodecided to turn his attentions towards the sheet music instead, randomly turning the pages and intently examining each one before throwing it on the floor. "No, don't, you're messing up the pages! Maitimo, make him stop!" Makalaurë pleaded, and Tyelkormo simultaneously shouted "I want to play, too! You're mean!" and started to punch his brother with his small fists. Sighing, Maitimo entered the room and grabbed his little brother's hands, scolding him gently - "No hitting, Tyelkormo, you know better." Tyelkormoappeared to consider this for a moment, then his face began to turn red and he started to howl. Maitimo picked him up to soothe him, then turned again to Makalaurë, who had begun collecting the scattered music from off the floor. "I asked you, Makalaurë, did you see Carnistir?" he repeated in a weary tone.

"No - he didn't come this way," Makalaurë finally answered. "Maybe he went to find Mother." And then he turned away and began again to play his harp.

__

Or maybe he's getting into who knows what mischief, Maitimo thought. _Please, Manwë and Varda, don't let him break anything, or hurt himself, before I find him!_ "Why don't you stay here and sing songs with our brother, Tyelkormo?" he said brightly as he sat his now quiet little brother at Makalaurë's feet; when Makalaurë began to protest, Maitimo silenced him with a murderous glare. "You can amuse Tyelkormo while I look for Carnistir," he said firmly. "Be a good _filit*_ and sing for him; I'll be back as soon as I've found Carnistir, and then I'll take them both back outside to play." And then he departed in search of their missing brother; as he left, Maitimo saw Tyelkormo once again reaching for the music pages.

*******

To his surprise, when Maitimo finally found his littlest brother, Carnistir was not destroying anything; instead, he was happily playing with the strange boy Maitimo had found in the woods. Carnistir had managed to climb up onto Findekáno's couch, and was sitting on his chest, laughing as Findekáno tickled him, and playing with the older boy's braids. "I'm sorry, Findekáno," Maitimo apologized, "Carnistir slipped away from me; I won't let him bother you again, I promise."

"It's all right, Maitimo," Findekáno replied. "I was already awake when he came in, he didn't disturb me. And I was getting bored anyway. It must be fun, having so many brothers around."

"Sometimes it is," Maitimo replied, "but between watching them and helping Father at his forge, I feel like I never have any chance to go anywhere or do anything exciting. I wish I had a horse, like you do - I'd ride into Tirion, or go out into the countryside and explore. I get so tired of staying home!"

At the mention of his horse, a strange look crossed Findekáno's face; he quickly replied, "Your father is a smith, then? It must be interesting, being an apprentice - all I ever do is read about things, I never have the chance to actually make anything. What does he make?"

"All kinds of things - metalwork, and jewelry, and precious stones, and he helps my mother cast her pieces, she's a sculptor. It's hard work, helping him, and I'm not very skilled at it. But Father wants me to grow up to be a craftsman like himself. What are you going to do when you are grown, Findekáno?"

"I guess... I really don't know," Findekáno replied slowly. _What **am** I going to do, if I can't go home?_ he thought for the first time. _Maitimo's mother was right - I can't make it completely on my own yet. But I don't think she'll let me stay here. _"I haven't decided yet - that's still a long way away. Breed horses, maybe, or become a forester, perhaps - something where I can be outdoors." _Maybe I can go live in the woods - I can hunt, a little, I don't think I'd starve._

"You mean that your father will let you choose what you want to do?" Maitimo seemed surprised. "That must be hard - to have to make such a big decision on your own. Don't you worry that you'll make the wrong choice?"

"No. Why? My father says that it's a rare life path that has no turnings in it. If I don't like what I choose, I can change my mind and do something else later, after all."

"Maybe; I'm not sure that's always true, Findekáno. But I'm sure you'll find out what path is the right one for you," Maitimo replied. A sudden loud rumble of thunder shook the room, startling Carnistir, who began to cry. Reflexively, Maitimo reached out, but Findekáno began to gently tease the toddler, who was soon pulling on Findekáno's braids again. Maitimo turned and walked over to a nearby window. "It's starting to rain now," he said, peering up at the sky, "I don't think you'll be traveling home before tomorrow, it will be too wet. Do you want to play any games to pass the time before dinner?" Maitimo asked.

"What kind of games did you have in mind?" Findekáno replied.

"Well, there's a game I play with my brother Makalaurë, we call it Rivals; each player has a set of tokens, and the object is to position your tokens to control as much space as you can on the board..."

******* 

It had been a long day, and a not entirely successful one. The new material he had devised was transparent, hard, and appropriately refractive, but it was too brittle to be durable enough for gemstones. But Fëanáro knew that he was on the right track; with a little more experimentation, he was certain he could improve the substance, and then the gems he would be able to cast from it would be the envy of Aulë himself. He had reached the limits of what he could accomplish using purely natural materials, but that did not have to limit his creativity unless he chose to allow it to. And he did not so choose. No, it was not the struggle he was having with his experimental compounds that was troubling him; rather, it was the struggle he was having with his eldest son.

At first glance, there appeared to be nothing wrong. Maitimo had always been dutiful and willing, and so he remained. But more and more he seemed to lack a certain... spark. _I remember when I first saw him, cradled in my wife's arms - how surprised I was at his red hair,_ he mused as he walked through the gentle rain towards the house, and a quiet evening with his family. _I was certain then that his fëa would prove as fiery as his locks; how wrong time has proved me! Does my son take joy in anything?_ Increasingly, it seemed to Fëanáro that his son's fëa was more a dwindling coal, gradually cooling to ash, than a growing flame. Maitimo dutifully listened to his father and promptly carried out any instructions he was given, but showed no more than a faint glimmer of excitement; he never seemed to lose himself in the work in the way Fëanáro remembered himself doing during his apprenticeship with Mahtan. There was little enthusiasm in his quiet voice, or light in his eyes; the best Fëanáro could say about him was that he was a diligent pupil. And unlike his younger brother Makalaurë (who also seemed unexcited about learning Fëanáro's skills), it did not appear that Maitimo's lack of enthusiasm was do to the possession of a different gift. He appeared to show no great interest in or particular aptitude at anything, either art or scholarship. How could a grandson of the great Finwë be so mediocre, and so dull? _He hardly seems a Noldo at all,_ Fëanáro thought sadly. _What is to become of him?_

He was still brooding over his strange oldest child when he entered the house. It was nearly time to begin preparing dinner, but he needed to wash the soot and grime of the forge away before he began the cooking, so he turned and began to head down the long hallway to the washroom. As he passes the doorway of the main sitting room, he heard laughter, and a stranger's voice. He turned, and beheld a surprising sight.

His son Maitimo was playing a board game with a strange, dark-haired boy; Carnistir lay napping on the floor next to them. It had been his son's laughter he had heard, Fëanáro realized; and now Maitimo was saying, "For someone who just learned this game today, you play really well! You almost won, you know. Do you want to try another round?" Maitimo's face, usually so expressionless, appeared animated for the first time in... Fëanáro realized he could not remember. _How long has it been since I've seen my son smile so?_ Fëanáro wondered. There was an eagerness in Maitimo's voice that his father had not heard before. He almost seemed a different person. Was it possible that the strange boy had triggered this welcome transformation? _Perhaps my son is lonely?_ Fëanáro mused. _I had not considered that - he has his brothers for company, after all; but perhaps their companionship alone is not enough. Just because I was content to be solitary during my youth does not guarantee that my sons will feel the same way._

"Of course," the dark-haired youngster replied. "You don't think I'm going to let you boast about your victory! I'm going to keep playing until I can beat you; consider yourself warned. Now, how do we set up the board again?" "Like this," his son replied, and together the two boys began returning the pieces to the gameboard. While doing so, the dark-haired boy absently pushed his hair back, and for a second Fëanáro glimpsed his face. What he saw rooted him to the spot in shock. He knew that face!

__

A woman, a beautiful tall woman with golden hair, kneeling next to a dark-haired boy writing at a small desk, helping him with his letters; the boy, intent on his studies, absent-mindedly brushing his long, black hair away from his face. Nolofinwë, his father had named him, HIS father had named him, and Fëanáro, watching, had wished this rival for his father's love dead... 

No, not Nolofinwë, Fëanáro realized, as the shock wore off and he remembered where and when he was. _Not my half-brother, but his son._ For the boy had inherited his father's face. _How did my half-brother's son find his way here? And how am I going to tell Maitimo that he cannot associate with him?_ For Fëanáro had no intention of allowing close ties with his father Finwë's other family. Indeed, when he had moved his own family outside Tirion to this isolated area following the birth of Carnistir, it was only in part so that both he and Nerdanel could have the quiet and privacy needed for their creative work. He had also intended to put distance between his children and the families of Nolofinwë and Arafinwë; between the legitimate heir of the Noldoran king and those other offspring, the fruits of his father's betrayal of his wife Míriel through his so-called "second marriage". _I will not have my son befriending the grandchild of Indis! The boy will be sent back to his father, and things will return to normal._

He must have made some sound, for suddenly both children stopped what they had been doing and were staring at him. Fëanáro willed his face into a neutral expression and entered the room, forcing himself to say, "Hello, son. What is our guest's name?"

"Father!" Maitimo replied brightly. "This is Findekáno. He fell off his horse and hurt his leg, and he can't walk, and he doesn't know the way home anyway, so he's staying with us for a while, Mother said it's all right, and he's been helping me watch Carnistir, and we've been playing Rivals, and he's an awfully good player even though he only learned the game today. Findekáno, this is my father, he's the best craftsman in the world, you should see all the things he can make..." "That's enough, Maitimo," Fëanáro interrupted gently, "you'd best get cleaned up for dinner; it will be ready soon. Where is your mother? I need to speak with her."

"I don't know; in her studio, I guess," Maitimo replied. "Will we have enough time to play another game of Rivals before dinner is ready? Findekáno thinks he can beat me in a rematch." "And I will, too!" Findekáno replied, grinning. "Can I eat dinner in here with Findekáno, Father? He can't come to the table, not without help, because he can't walk, and Mother wants him to stay off his leg anyway. Is it all right if I stay and keep him company?" Maitimo asked.

"No, I think not..." Fëanáro began to say, but his son's sudden downcast expression brought him up short. After a brief pause, he resumed. "Perhaps, Maitimo, if your mother approves, and if Findekáno wishes your company. Go get cleaned up, and then you can come back to your game; you can always finish it after you eat, if necessary." And then he left his son in the company of his half-brother's child, and went in search of his wife.

*******

He found her where his son had suggested she would be, in her studio. She was working on a clay model in preparation, Fëanáro supposed, for casting another sculpture. When he came closer, he realized that she was sculpting the two boys, his son and his half-brother's child, intent on their play, heads bent over the gameboard that sat between them. "Nerdanel..." he began to say, but she cut him off.

"Husband, today was a fortunate day for our oldest son. Have you seen how he glows in the presence of his new friend? I think they will share a soul bond, those two," she said as she continued to shape the clay. "I heard you speaking to them. What do you think of Findekáno?"

"He is the son of my half-brother Nolofinwë," Fëanáro replied quietly; and at those words his wife finally looked up to face him, a troubled expression on her face. After a long moment of silence, she replied, "I suspected he might be; I thought I remembered that name, and there is a family resemblance. But does it matter whose son he is?"

"Yes," Fëanáro replied firmly. "I will not have my children associating with my half-brothers' get, even -"

"Even if it brings life to Maitimo's fëa?" she interrupted. "My love," she continued, "look at your son while he is with Findekáno. When was the last time you saw him so happy? And you would deny him that happiness, solely because you disapprove of the parentage of his friend? Findekáno is not Nolofinwë, and he did not choose his father."

"That does not matter," Fëanáro replied firmly. "His father is who he is, and I do not wish my children to be forming ties with Nolofinwë's family."

"The ties are there already, whether you wish to admit that or not," Nerdanel replied equally firmly. "Our sons have half-cousins, and your disapproval of that fact does not negate its truth. Would you allow your old pain to get in the way of your children's happiness, my love? I believe you are a better person than that."

__

Could she be right? Fëanáro found himself wondering. _Would breaking the bond that appears to be forming between my son and Nolofinwë's truly hurt Maitimo? And even if it does, would that be so terrible? Surely he would quickly recover from it - he's only known the boy for a day, after all!_ But he remembered the glow he'd just witnessed on his son's face, and the lightness in his voice, and suddenly he found himself reluctant to forbid the friendship. _I complained that my son lacked joy in life. If an association with Nolofinwë's family provides that joy, is not my discomfort a fair price to pay in trade?_

"I will consider your words," he said slowly, troubled. Nerdanel arose and embraced him. "I know you will make the right decision in the end," she replied. "We need to send word to your half-brother, to let him know his son is here, and safe. Findekáno would not tell me his parents' names, I suspect he is hiding from something, and I was reluctant to send word until I was sure my guess was correct."

"I will send a messenger when Laurelin next waxes; by then the storm will probably have stopped, and my half-brother will not have to carry his son home in the rain," Fëanáro replied.

(To Be Continued)

Notes:

*filit - Quenya for "little bird"; an affectionate nickname Maedhros has given his brother Maglor.


	3. Part 3

This story takes place in Valinor; accordingly, I've chosen to use the characters' Quenya names, which are as follows:

Maitimo or Nelyafinwë - Maedhros

Makalaurë - Maglor

Tyelkormo - Celegorm

Carnistir - Caranthir

Findekáno - Fingon 

Angaráto - Angrod 

Aikanáro - Aegnor

Nolofinwë - Fingolfin

Arafinwë - Finarfin

For the meaning of the names, see the Author's Notes at the end of the story.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings are gratefully borrowed from the works of J. R. R. Tolkien. I own nothing.

If Wishes were Horses - Part 3

When Findekáno awoke the next day, the rain had finally ceased. He had not succeeded in defeating Maitimo at Rivals yet, but did manage to achieve two draws before they had finally gone to sleep. He had been hoping they'd be able to play a rematch after breakfast but Maitimo said he had to help his father at his forge for a while, so Findekáno had to settle for listening to his friend's younger brother practicing his music, and playing with the two littlest children, who both enjoyed knocking over the block buildings Findekáno constructed for them. He found himself wishing he could stay with Maitimo's family longer, and he really didn't want to think about what he was going to do when the time to leave finally arrived. If only he hadn't lost Stormcloud! _I wonder how much such a fine horse costs, _he thought. _Perhaps Father would forgive me if I promised to save enough money to buy him a new horse someday? I could sell my pony - perhaps that would be enough money to purchase a nice foal, if not a full-grown stallion._ He was still idly thinking of ways to earn the needed funds when he heard, in the background, a knock on the door, and the sound of someone being ushered in. _Probably someone coming to commission some smithcraft from Maitimo's father,_ he thought absently as he began to construct yet another tower for Carnistirand Tyelkormoto knock over. But as he was placing the final blocks on the top of his new creation, he froze, for he recognized the voice addressing Nerdanel; it was the voice of his father Nolofinwë.

As he heard the footsteps growing closer to the door, Findekáno began to tremble slightly. How was he ever going to explain his actions to his father? _Father is never going to forgive me for losing his horse; especially since he'd already told me to stay away from Stormcloud. I know he's going to punish me - he'll probably turn me over to Grandfather to be judged as a thief. I was just trying to impress Aikanáro and Angaráto_ _- I didn't mean any harm!_ He wished with all his heart that he could simply turn invisible so he wouldn't have to face his sire, but he knew that that was not going to happen, and he braced himself as the door to the sitting room swung open and his father walked in. But to Findekáno's surprise, the look on his father's face was not one of anger, but relief.

"Findekáno! Thank Ilúvatar I've finally found you!" Nolofinwë exclaimed as he came quickly over to his son's side. "Your mother and I have been terribly worried, and your uncle Arafinwë and I have been searching for you since yesterday. The Valar must have been watching over you - you could have been killed in that fall!"

"I'm sorry, Father! I didn't mean to cause so much trouble, honest - I just wanted to impress my cousins! I won't ever do it again, and I'll buy you a new stallion somehow, even finer than Stormcloud was -"

"Hush, son," Nolofinwë gently interrupted as he sat down next to Findekáno and took his son into his arms. "It's you I care about, not Stormcloud - who, incidentally, is fine. He found his own way home, as riderless horses usually do. Surely you realize, though, that you and your brother mean more to me than any horse ever could? What you did was wrong, and we'll talk about that later, but for now, I just want to take you home. Let's go now." And with that, Nolofinwë lifted Findekáno up and began to carry him out of the room and down the hallway towards the front door.

"But I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Maitimo!" Findekáno protested; Nerdanel, who'd been waiting outside the doorway and was now following them down the hallway, replied, "I'll pass your farewells on to my son, Findekáno, never fear. And perhaps in the future you will be able to return, or Maitimo may come to visit you."

"He, and the rest of your family, are always welcome in my home," Nolofinwë said. "Thank you for caring for my son, Nerdanel. "No thanks are needed - although I would do the same for any injured child, he is my nephew, after all," Nerdanel responded. "For my part, you will always be welcome here, Nolofinwë, and I hope that my children and yours will one day provide the means by which this rift in our family will be healed. Be patient with my husband, if you can be; I know his stubbornness is exasperating, but even he can change with time. I do not believe that he will always feel resentful towards you and Arafinwë; you are both his brothers, after all, and one day he will come to appreciate that. Take care, Nolofinwë, and have a safe journey back to Tirion." Nolofinwë silently nodded his head in answer, then carried Findekáno outside to where Stormcloud stood waiting. He lifted his son onto the horse's back, and once more Findekáno found himself riding the powerful stallion, this time securely seated in front of his father. "Home, Stormcloud," Findekáno heard his father say, and then they were riding away, heading back to Tirion. As Findekáno looked back, he saw Nerdanel still standing in the doorway of the house, and farther away, the smoke rising up from the forge where his cousin and new friend Maitimo was working with his father Fëanáro.

*******

__

I had almost forgotten how crowded Tirion is, Maitimo thought, _it's been so long since I've been here._ He had come to the city with his father, who had business in town - when Maitimo had heard that his father needed to travel to Tirion, he had begged for permission to go with him in order to visit Findekáno. His father had agreed that he could come, and now Maitimo found himself walking through the streets of Tirion to the very edge of town, where his cousin's house stood. He had had to stop and ask for directions twice; when his family had lived in Tirion, they had been located on the opposite side of the city, and this was Maitimo's first time in this section of the town. _I wonder if any of my other cousins will be there?_ he thought nervously as he approached the street where his uncle Nolofinwë's house stood. _I knew that Grandfather had other children, but Father rarely mentioned them, and he never told me before that I have cousins! I guess he and his brothers don't get along, but why? I suppose the answer's not important, though; I'm just happy he'll let me come and visit Findekáno when I want to. I hope Findekáno will like my present._ He looked briefly down at the carefully polished brass tube he held in his hands, and smiled.

When he arrived at the house, his excitement suddenly gave way to nervousness. He had never seen his uncle Nolofinwë before, or his aunt Anairë, and Findekáno he'd only met once; what was he going to say to them when they opened the door? He was almost too afraid to knock on the door. But he badly wanted to see his cousin again, and after he'd stared at the closed door for several minutes he finally forced himself to knock. When the door swung open, Maitimo found himself facing a tall, raven-haired man with piercing grey eyes. "I... My name is Nelyafinwë Maitimo, son of Curufinwë Fëanáro, and... and... I'd like to visit with Findekáno - if that's all right," he stammered, unable to meet the man's eyes. But to his surprise, the man laughed and replied, "So you're the Maitimo that my son has been talking about so incessantly! I'm your uncle, Nolofinwë. We've met before, but you wouldn't remember it - you were a newborn infant at the time. Come inside, Maitimo - Findekáno will appreciate the company." Maitimo stepped inside, and his uncle turned and led him through the house and outside into a garden, where Findekáno sat reading, his left leg propped up on a chair. At their approach, Findekáno glanced up; when he saw his visitor, he dropped the book onto the grass and said, "Maitimo! I'm so glad you came - I was beginning to think I'd never see you again!" "I'll leave you both to talk," Nolofinwë said. "And remember, son - stay off that foot!" And he turned and left, leaving Maitimo in the company of his cousin.

"I came as soon as I could; it's too far to walk, so I had to wait until my father was going into town so that I could ride with him," Maitimo replied. "But soon I'll be able to come more often - my father says he's going to teach me to ride, and then he'll buy me a pony of my own! My brother Makalaurë may get a pony, too. And then we'll be able to come here to visit, or you can come see us, or we can all go riding together, whatever you like."

Findekáno looked embarrassed. "That's great, Maitimo, but you'll have to come to see me - I won't be able to visit you for a while."

"Well, not until your ankle is better, but then -" Maitimo began, but Findekáno shook his head. "Father's selling my pony - he says I'm obviously not happy with her, since I decided to ride his stallion instead, and so I am going to have to walk to get where I want to go. He says when he thinks I've learned more caution, then I can have another mount, but not before."

"You mean you were riding your father's stallion that day when you fell off?" Maitimo looked at his cousin in amazement. "Why did you do it? Weren't you afraid?"

"Well, my - I mean our - cousins Angaráto and Aikanáro dared me to," Findekáno admitted. "You haven't met them yet, I suppose, but I guess you soon will. I don't know why, but when I'm playing with them, I just don't stop and think about what I'm doing sometimes. They dared me to do it, and so I did. I wasn't afraid, though, until the storm scared Stormcloud. Father says I'm not afraid of much, and that's also why he doesn't want me to have my pony - so I won't be able to go roaming so far from Tirion, where he says I might get into more trouble than I can handle. He says some things a person **should** be afraid of, but I don't believe him, because he's not afraid of anything!"

"Neither is my father," Maitimo grinned, "but I'm not as brave as he is. It's strange, knowing now that you're my cousin. I never even knew I had cousins, and now I find out I have lots of them, and I've never met any of them except you. I think I'm going to enjoy having so many cousins to visit. You have a new cousin, too, Findekáno - born one week ago. I said it would be another boy, and I was right! His father-name for now is just Finwë, after our grandfather, but Father says he'll amend it once he gets to know my new brother better. So you should be glad you can't go riding to my house for a while - you'd just wind up baby-sitting!" He laughed, and then Findekáno found himself laughing too.

"I made a present for you," Maitimo said when they stopped laughing. "I thought since you can't walk much yet, you might like something to look at besides books. Here - put this end up to your eye, and turn the ring at the other end. The pattern changes every time you turn it - it's never the same twice." He held the brass instrument out to Findekáno, who held it up to his eye as his friend instructed, and watched as the patterns inside tumbled with every twist of his hand, splinters of color spinning and falling, each time creating a new image, like a stained-glass window endlessly breaking and reforming. "You made this yourself?" he finally asked, amazed.

"It's nothing special, not like the things my father can make - it's just bits of colored glass, and a few mirrors inside a tube, but I thought you might like it," Maitimo replied. "**I** think it's special," his cousin said; after a pause, Findekáno continued sadly, "I don't have anything nearly as nice that I can give to you, Maitimo. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to give me anything, Findekáno - just letting me be your friend is enough. That is, as long as you don't beat me at Rivals - for **that**, I'll demand payment! Want to play a game or two? I'm sure we can improvise a board..."

*******

When Fëanáro finally arrived at Nolofinwë's house to collect his son and take him home, his half-brother lead him silently to the garden where their children were still playing; and for a time the two rival brothers stood silently side by side at the garden entrance watching as their sons, the oldest grandchildren of Míriel and Indis, sat peacefully over a makeshift gameboard; and for the duration of that all-too-brief moment, the house of Finwë was united at last. 

Notes:

This story takes place a few years after "The Gift". How old are the children in this tale? Since Elves don't become fully mature physically until at least age 50, but mature mentally faster than humans do, and since at this time there's no sun or moon to measure time by (just the Trees), it's hard to give exact ages for any of them. Suffice it to say that Maedhros is about the equivalent of a human 13 year old, and Maglor is about 8 or 9. Celegorm is about the equivalent of a human 3 year old, and Caranthir is about the equivalent of a human 15 month old . Fingon is about 11.

The game of Rivals - I imagined this as a variant of the Asian game of Go, with a smaller gameboard, fewer stones, and a few stones set in fixed positions at the beginning of play prior to the first move.

The birth order of Curufin and Caranthir - in the published _Silmarillion_, Caranthir is listed as the fourth son, and Curufin as the fifth; this order is reversed in the essay "The Shibboleth of Fëanor" in _The Peoples of Middle Earth (History of Middle Earth, volume 12)_. I've chosen to go with the _Silmarillion_ in this matter. 

The meanings of everyone's Quenya names are as follows (most of these are taken from "The Shibboleth of Fëanor" in _The Peoples of Middle Earth (History of Middle Earth, volume 12))_:

Maitimo - "Well-shaped One"; Maedhros's mother-name, given to him because "he was of beautiful bodily form."

Nelyafinwë - "Third Finwë (in succession)"; Maedhros's father-name, given to him since he is the first of Finwë's grandchildren.

Makalaurë - "Forging Gold" (referring to light or the color, not the metal); Maglor's mother-name. The name is prophetic, referring to his ability as a musician.

Tyelkormo - "Hasty Riser"; Celegorm's mother-name, possibly given in reference to his quick temper and his habit of leaping up when suddenly angered.

Carnistir - "Red-Face"; Caranthir's mother name, given because he had the ruddy complexion of his mother Nerdanel (and possibly freckles?), although he lacked her reddish hair - his was dark brown.

Angaráto - "Iron Eminent-One"; Angrod's mother-name

Aikanáro - "Fell Fire"; Aegnor's mother-name

Nolofinwë - "Wise/Knowledgeable Finwë"; Fingolfin's father-name

Arafinwë - "Noble Finwë"; Finarfin's father-name

A child's initial father-name may be modified later, as the child grows older and his/her character and abilities become more obvious. Maedhros's newest brother Finwë will eventually have his father-name modified to Curufinwë ("Skilled Finwë"), later Sindarinized to Curufin.


End file.
